


Irreversible; Insatiable

by Mallory_Clayborne



Category: RWBY
Genre: (a sonogram and EEG with discussion of future surgery), (though their relationship is stated to be switchy Qrow 'tops' here), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Clover Ebi, Fairgame, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Major Illness, Medical Procedures, Oral Sex, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Top Qrow Branwen, Volume 7 (RWBY), fairgameweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23240704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallory_Clayborne/pseuds/Mallory_Clayborne
Summary: Day 5 of Fairgame Week 2020 - prompt of 'hurt/comfort' (this hits both).'Qrow had stopped drinking.Qrow was getting his life back.It wasn’t supposed to end like this.'Heavy angst that resolves pretty well. NSFW.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Irreversible; Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, the first smut I enter for Fairgame week. Angst is rather one of my guilty pleasures to write, so I was altogether too happy writing this. Hopefully it's good to read; it certainly was to write. (Even if it did turn out twice as long as I intended).

It had started when Qrow woke up one morning to find he was _very_ bruised.

Clover had already gotten out of bed and gone to take a shower, but Qrow had stayed under the duvet. Now, with Clover gone and the sheets pushed back, Qrow looked down at his chest and arms and legs and was shocked to find he was mottled with bruises – not intense ones, but a lot of them, pale purple edged with yellow. He imagined his hips must look a warzone.

Great. He lets Clover top for once and now he looks like he’s been assaulted.

He’d probably just not engaged his Aura as much as he usually would have done, and Clover’s grip and scratches and bites had thus left more of a mark. The bruises were only a little tender, so he wasn’t all that worried.

In hindsight, he should have been.

It had continued when he’d been _utterly_ exhausted after sparring with Oscar.

Oscar was really beginning to mesh with Ozpin’s abilities, even if the wizard himself was still frustratingly absent. It wasn’t all Oz’s skill, though – Oscar was getting very clever with his techniques, given his small size and stature in comparison to the enemies he was expecting. Really, he just wanted to put up a good resistance against Hazel if they ever fought again.

Qrow had been a little tired all the time, lately, but he put it down to burnout after everything they’d gone through. However, this fight had been excruciatingly tiring. Qrow pressed his back against one of the walls and collapsed down it until he was sitting. He felt like jelly that had been taken out of its mould before it was completely set.

Oscar had held Qrow’s water bottle to his lips so Qrow could sip from it, concern written on his face. Neither of them had even broken their Auras; Qrow shouldn’t be this tired.

Qrow brushed it off a minute later when he could string together a sentence, reassuring Oscar he was probably just getting a cold or something and that’s why he was so tired. He’d take the afternoon off and get some extra sleep.

Qrow did, but he was more tired than ever when Clover shook him awake after missing the alarm the next day.

It had obviously progressed the next time Qrow and Clover fucked.

Clover was on his hands and knees on the bed with Qrow knelt behind him (Qrow wasn’t bottoming again for a while, thanks very much), and Qrow was finding it harder and harder to actually move his body. Like he was dragging himself through treacle. Like something was pushing against his back, keeping him forwards. His hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead when he pretty much collapsed down onto Clover, pulling out of him almost all the way, resting his own body on Clover’s back. Clover was plenty strong enough to support Qrow, but he looked round as far as he could in concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Not sure.”

Clover paused for a few moments, and then shuffled forwards, a slight shiver at the feeling as Qrow’s cock was pulled completely out of his ass, Qrow still half-lying on Clover’s back.

“Can you lift yourself up? I’ll turn over and catch you.”

“I can try,” Qrow muttered, and fought to lift himself off of Clover. When he was clear by only an inch, Clover immediately flattened himself and rolled over, catching Qrow’s shoulders just as he pitched forwards again. Clover rolled Qrow off to the side, and Qrow took a breath, now lying on his back.

“Sorry,” Qrow said. “Don’t know what’s up with me.” Clover grabbed Qrow’s hand and squeezed it.

“Hey, don’t worry. Here,” and Clover leant over to pull the condom off of Qrow’s cock, before standing from the bed, “let me go clean off most of the lube on me so I don’t wreck the bed, and I’ll jerk us both off when I get back, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay. I’ll just… lie here.” Clover headed to the en-suite, keeping a concerned eye on Qrow.

Clover made a mental note to take Qrow to the medbay tomorrow.

It got serious when Qrow could barely stand the next morning at nine o’clock.

He was beyond ‘groggy’. It was if he couldn’t wake up properly, as if he was only half-conscious. Clover had pretty much had to dress him, Qrow slumped against the wall, threatening to collapse down it. Qrow was trying to respond when Clover spoke to him, but he could manage no more than an unintelligible mumble. Qrow himself felt so strange. He felt almost like he was dreaming, and he wasn’t quite sure what day it was or how he was holding himself up. Clover pulled one of Qrow’s arms over his shoulder and half-dragged him from their bedroom.

The two only made it a few metres outside before the last of Qrow’s strength left him and he slipped from Clover’s grasp, red Aura shattering around him. Clover’s heart lurched in his chest, but he managed to catch Qrow before he hit the floor. Clover shifted Qrow around until he could pick him up, bridal-style rather than a fireman’s lift as Clover normally would, because he wanted to be able to see Qrow’s face. It was almost like Qrow was completely wasted – he was awake, just about, but it was as if the world around him wasn’t there. Clover set off running, keeping Qrow as still as he could, knowing he needed a doctor as soon as possible. He channelled his Aura into his Semblance, hoping somebody would be free in the medical wing.

Clover deposited Qrow onto the bed in the curtain cubicle closest to the door, and yelled for help. A doctor, a man Clover had seen but never spoken to came over immediately, looking concerned.

“Field injury?”

“No,” Clover said, trying to keep calm but not doing a fantastic job, “it’s not really an injury at all, some sort of illness. He started getting very tired a few days, maybe a week ago, and last night he just collapsed with no strength, and the same has happened now, even worse. He’s barely conscious.” The doctor glanced at Clover, and then moved to Qrow’s side.

“What’s his name?”

“Qrow Branwen. He’s a visiting Huntsman, the General’s guest.”

“Alright, Huntsman Branwen,” the doctor said, reaching for the box of medical gloves on the counter near the bed and snapping a pair on, “are you able at all to tell me how you feel?” The doctor lifted Qrow’s wrist, and felt for his pulse, looking at the clock on the wall as he did so. Qrow didn’t reply, but he did sort-of attempt to move his arm when the doctor picked it up.

After taking Qrow’s pulse and blood pressure, the doctor turned his attention to Clover.

“Does he have any conditions, Operative Ebi? Is he on any medication?”

“Just Valium.” Clover said. “He was on Valium and Prozac for long periods before, stages of anxiety and depression, but he went on a long mission a year or so ago and stopped taking them because he couldn’t get them. He was put back on the Valium a month or so ago, helping him quit… helping him manage his anxiety too.”

“Quit what?”

“He… he was an alcoholic.” Clover’s voice quietened a little, like he was talking about something he shouldn’t.

“For how long?” Clover winced a little.

“Quite long.” The doctor looked at Clover pointedly. Clover continued, voice even lower:

“Most of his life. On and off since he was a teenager. He’s 44.” The doctor, professionally, didn’t react.

“Alright. Let me call a nurse. There are tests that need to be run.”

Qrow was lying now properly situated on a different bed in a different room of the infirmary. His shirt had been unbuttoned. Clover was stood at his side, holding his left hand, talking to him, keeping him awake. Qrow occasionally responded, but rarely made any sense; that was, if his words even came out as anything more than a mess of noise. The doctor had been joined by a nurse, and he had turned on the machine next to Qrow. Then, the nurse approached the bed, holding a tube of something. He smiled at Clover, and the looked down at Qrow.

“Okay, Qrow, is it? This is going to be cold, sorry if it makes you jump.” Clover watched on as the nurse squeezed the gel from the tube onto Qrow’s abdomen, just under his right pectoral, and the doctor passed the nurse the transducer probe, pressing it against Qrow through the gel. Qrow’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked glassily at Clover, but Clover didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on the sonogram in progress.

“Cloves? I slept through the alarm?” Qrow asked, voice groggy. Clover sharply looked down.

“Brothers, Qrow, you’re awake! How do you feel?” Qrow half-shrugged.

“Okay, I guess. I think this might be a dream. Is this a dream? Can I fly?”

“Would that normally prove to you something was a dream?” Clover asked back, and the doctor glanced over curiously for a second, but then looking back at the screen where the crisp black-and-white image of Qrow’s insides was displayed. The tech had come a long way, Clover thought – his parents had shown him the fuzzy little ultrasound of himself 20 weeks after conception, graphically poor compared to this image.

“Qrow,” the doctor said, and Qrow slowly looked over with a hum, as if this was a regular lazy Sunday morning rather than one with a critical medical emergency. The doctor continued:

“You were unconscious earlier when we explained to Clover what we were checking you for, but you seem more lucid now.”

“Ye-e-es,” Qrow said slowly.

“My suspicion isn’t good, and this ultrasound, other than a potential a liver biopsy, is the closest to confirmation I can get. Can you see the screen? Look here,” and the doctor gestured around the image, “these bumpy sections are on your liver. These are signs of serious cirrhosis, which makes a great deal of sense given what Clover’s told us about your history with alcohol.” Qrow almost looked confused. Almost… scared.

“But I don’t drink anymore,” Qrow said. Quietly. Tiredly.

“Unfortunately,” the doctor said, a little more gently, “the damage appears to already be done.”

_‘Hepatic encephalopathy’_ , the doctor had continued. The suspected cause of Qrow’s sudden downturn, triggered by the liver damage finally catching up to him, causing his blood ammonia level to skyrocket, and potentially by other things: low sodium levels, low potassium levels, alcohol use (Clover hoped it hadn’t been that in secret), or the use of benzodiazepines – Valium being an example. It could onset suddenly as a sign of potentially impending liver failure. Which could lead to multiple organ failure.

Which categorically led to death.

Qrow was asleep again. He was hooked up to an EEG now, measuring his brain activity, checking he was only sleeping.

The hepatic encephalopathy could have its own consequences. Qrow could fall into a coma.

He might stay unresponsive forever.

He might just die.

Clover was desperate to just channel his entire Aura into his Semblance, but was doing his best to keep it steady. Keep his reserves. Give Qrow all the luck in the world.

He blinked his tears away to give him time enough to stare at Qrow’s face. He gripped Qrow’s hand tighter.

Qrow had stopped drinking.

Qrow was just getting his life back.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Clover lifted Qrow’s limp hand and kissed it, and he couldn’t pause his tears any longer.

There was a burst of noise in the medbay outside the room, and then Ruby slammed through the door. All of RWBYJNR were visible, but only Yang and Ruby came into the room, Ren stepping slightly forward behind them to close the door again. Clover smiled weakly at them both.

“Hey, girls. He’s doing… okay.”

“God, Clover,” Yang breathed. Clover didn’t even see Ruby cover the two metres to Qrow’s right, the other side as to where Clover was sitting.

“Uncle Qrow,” Ruby said, and then burst into tears. “Uncle Qrow, please don’t leave us. Not now. Not when you’ve only just come back to us. You can’t… you can’t leave us again.” Clover’s heart hurt even more at her words. For of course, Qrow had left her – and the rest of his family – before, for months and years at a time. But he’d always chosen that path. Was it different if he was taken away by force? Clover shook his head.

“Ruby,” Clover said, willing his voice to stay strong, “Yang. He’s in the best hospital on Remnant, and the doctor will be here in a few minutes. He has drugs for Qrow to take, the best for his condition, and hopefully soon there’ll be a full treatment plan. You two,” Clover looked away for a second and swallowed hard, “try and wake him up? He’ll have to take some pills.” Yang nodded, but Ruby stared blankly, her gaze still on Qrow. Yang moved to be stood beside Ruby, and then turned and sat down on the edge of Qrow’s bed. Whatever Clover had been expecting, it wasn’t what happened. Yang started chanting something.

_‘Xiǎoxióng xiǎoxióng zhuǎn zhuǎn zhuǎn,  
Xiǎoxióng xiǎoxióng mō dìbǎn.  
Xiǎoxióng xiǎoxióng shēng dào tiān,  
Xiǎoxióng xiǎoxióng zhǎ zhǎyǎn.’_

Qrow murmured as he joined in the last two lines.

  
_‘Xiǎoxióng xiǎoxióng dǎ dǎ xī,_  
_Xiǎoxióng xiǎoxióng zuò xiàdì.’_

Qrow smiled tiredly and his eyes slid open.

“Hey, sunny little dragon. That was a blast from the past, huh?” Yang grinned.

“Yeah. Dad would murder me if he heard my accent.”

“It’s cool, he’d murder me twice for mine. Where’s Rubes?”

“I’m here,” Ruby said. The song seemed to have calmed her a little, although her tears were still falling occasionally.

“Hey. Nice to see you both. Where’s Cloves?”

“I’m holding your other hand, birdbrain,” Clover said, and Qrow turned his head to look.

“Hey,” Qrow said, softly.

“Hey,” Clover answered softly.

“I’m still here.”

“You’re still here. The doctor will be here-”

“In a minute. I heard. I thought I was dreaming. Maybe dead. You look like an angel to me.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Clover said, but couldn’t help smiling when Qrow smirked a little.

Clover helped Qrow into a sitting position in the bed when the doctor arrived, nurse behind him, carrying a small cup of water and an even smaller paper cup with pills in it. The pills were rifaximin, the doctor explained, and they were to treat the encephalopathy, and hopefully prevent it reoccurring. It wasn’t certain, of course. It would take at least six or seven or eight hours for them to know if it worked. But then, they could focus on what seemed to be the underlying issue – Qrow’s ruined liver. Ruby had started crying harder again. _But he was supposed to be better_ , she sobbed. Qrow took the pills, and the doctor started to talk of transplants, of artificial organs developed by the best Atlesian scientists, how if Qrow survived today, he’d likely survive as long as he ought to.

Qrow passed out again.

Ruby was napping fitfully, curled up in a chair. Yang and Clover were talking, and sometimes it was as if Qrow tried to join in, but he wasn’t very lucid. Not very lucid at all. It had been six hours since Qrow had taken the antibiotics.

“Qrow saved me and Ruby when we were very little,” Yang said. Clover looked at her. He was still gripping Qrow’s hand, and his Aura was close to running out. He mentally bargained with the Brothers he’d only recently learned were real, begging for his Semblance to keep going, his Aura not to crack.

“What did he do?”

“I was just a little kid. Only five, nearly six. Ruby was three, nearly four. I took her miles and miles away from home, looking for my mom.”

“Qrow’s sister?”

“Yeah. Naturally, the Grimm showed up. But that was when Qrow found us, and killed them all. I guess he must have been flying overhead looking for us, in hindsight. Everything he’s done in his life, really, I think it’s been to protect other people. Even eventually stopping drinking. It’s not really for himself.”

“Well, stopping drinking is certainly going to improve his quality of life.”

“Mmm. But that’s not what he’s thinking about. He’s thinking about how it will benefit other people. His own happiness is second. It always has been. Y’know,” Yang said, and gazed into Clover’s eyes, “I’m glad he’s found you. Someone new. Someone to remind him his own life is important, too.”

“Thank you. I try my best. When you first meet Qrow Branwen, he does come off pretty… arrogant. But really he’s selfless as anything, isn’t he?”

“Both the Branwen twins are good actors. Good liars. One of the few things they have in common.” Clover nodded, not so much in agreement as in thoughtfulness.

Qrow woke up, and yawned.

The doctor returned a little while later. Qrow was sitting up again, much more awake, saying he felt as if he’d just had a late night and an early morning. Clover was repeatedly brushing away the sweat beading at his hairline. His Aura was only just clinging on, but he daren’t let go of Qrow’s hand. He daren’t stop amplifying his Semblance. The doctor seemed very pleased with Qrow’s state, his high level of consciousness. The drugs, so very luckily, had worked. The next steps were a little more difficult. Nobody had thought Qrow’s liver had been this wrecked, because the symptoms hadn’t shown up, but they’d onset suddenly. Fortunately, he wasn’t classified in the system as a regular visiting Huntsman, not simply someone licenced in Vale but serving in Atlas – he occupied a similar place in the system to the Ace Operatives. That was the General’s doing.

“But what does that mean?” Ruby asked.

“Well, a few things. The main one is that he can be skipped ahead of other waiting patients in the Kingdom for surgery, which is looking like the best option here, else it’s just palliative treatment.”

“And ‘he’ is awake,” Qrow said, looking at Ruby. She smiled a little, feeling much better now her uncle was more or less stable.

“The other thing it means is he’s treated as military, rather than civilian. Lab treatments are available. Those are the ones we’ve developed, but aren’t yet efficient enough to roll out across everyone. Which here would mean we could engineer an artificial liver, rather than transplant from an organ donor, which can take years.”

“But you don’t do this for _normal_ people,” Qrow said. He sounded a little uncomfortable. Clover squeezed his hand.

“It wouldn’t usually be done for non-military, no. It’s very expensive.”

“People _die_ down in Mantle daily waiting for treatment,” Qrow shot back. The doctor hesitated.

“They do, Qrow. But we can’t save everyone all the time,” Clover said softly.

“Bullshit. Saving everyone is what Huntsmen are meant to do.”

“Well,” said the doctor, a little shortly, “we aren’t all Huntsmen. Doctors save who they can.”

“It just helps when those who they _can_ have privilege, huh?”

The doctor had gone on to ignore Qrow’s insinuations, and instead scheduled Qrow to return to the medbay tomorrow for a liver biopsy, where they’d take some of Qrow’s cells, discard the damaged ones, and grow him a new liver. Atlesian science was good. It would be complete in just over a fortnight, and then they would schedule Qrow in for the major transplant surgery, which would be a good few hours in the theatre, maybe half a day if he was unlucky. But for now, other than treating any other symptoms that arose, the medical centre could do nothing else for Qrow. The weakness and the bruising were due to the cirrhosis; the unconsciousness from the encephalopathy. He shouldn’t experience that again, the doctor had said, although the other symptoms may reoccur. He gave Clover a printed sheet of symptoms Qrow could experience in the time before his treatment. Qrow was then discharged for now, and him and Clover visited the other kids, who all wanted to see their honorary uncle, and then the General, who was angry at himself for not being able to get out of meetings to come down and visit Qrow.

That night, after showering together (nothing sexual; they simply didn’t want to be apart) Qrow and Clover were curled up in bed together. Clover had turned the heating up high so they could both lie on top of the bedsheets in nothing but underwear and still be warm, as much skin pressed together as possible. Qrow felt quite well, and they’d spend an hour so far lying like this, just grasping each other, kissing and making promises not to leave. Clover was quite sleepy, having wrecked his Aura over the course of the day. Qrow was immeasurably grateful.

“It scares me to think what would have happened if you hadn’t been using Good Fortune all day.”

“We don’t have to worry about the ‘if’. We can celebrate that I did, and that you’re okay. I do have a question, though.”

“Shoot.” Clover paused before asking.

“Why did you decide that then was the time to point out the inequalities in the Kingdom? Don’t get me wrong, they need to be talked about, and the General is doing his best to try and juggle everything and make improvements, but… well, this is for you. This is your treatment.” Qrow shrugged.

“Huh. I guess... it’s all fine and dandy acknowledging the inequalities when the situation where you benefit from them isn’t happening. On a good day we can all stand around in our floating city and talk about how we want Mantle and Atlas to be equal. But when we’re suffering simultaneously to a Mantle citizen, we all have a habit of shutting up and accepting the fact that we’re going to live and they’re going to die.”

“You never treat your life as your own, you know that?” Qrow wrinkled his nose slightly. Clover suppressed a smile at the sight, thinking a serious conversation was not the time to point out Qrow looking cute.

“What do you mean?”

“Yang and I were discussing it earlier. Pretty much your whole life, you’ve sacrificed everything for others. Even though you come off as selfish, when you sit down and look at everything you’ve done, it’s a thousand to one totally selfless.”

“There’s a difference between choosing who to send to fight a potentially deadly Grimm, and choosing who to treat for a medical condition that’s their own fault. I don’t-”

“Don’t say this-”

“I don’t really deserve to be saved, Cloves. I did this to myself.” Clover looked at Qrow, and saw the dullness creeping into his eyes, old habits of worthlessness and self-contempt. Clover kissed Qrow gently.

“That isn’t true. Everyone deserves a chance to be saved, no matter the mistakes they’ve made. And really, Qrow, you’re doing most of the saving yourself. You’re the one who dragged yourself out of the hole you were in.”

“Who dug the hole?” Qrow said bitterly. Clover sighed, and tugged at Qrow, rolling them so Clover was on his back and Qrow was draped over the top of him. Clover kissed the shell of Qrow’s ear.

“It is too much to say _society_? Qrow, you’ve gone through so much shit. No wonder you weren’t a picture of perfect mental or physical health. But what matters is you’re getting better, and that you’re leading that improvement yourself. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone or just give up.” Qrow twisted his head and nuzzled his nose against Clover’s cheek. Clover smiled.

Qrow spoke again a few minutes later.

“You know just the right things to say, boyscout. They give you lessons in pep talks in your troop meetings or something?”

“Just in my training as an army officer, unfortunately.”

“Huh. It’s almost like I should be calling you ‘Sir’.” Qrow shifted himself to push one of his legs down between Clover’s, and Clover gave a short, incredulous laugh.

“You can do if you’d like.” Qrow pushed himself up until he was in a press-up position over Clover, hands planted either side of Clover’s shoulders.

“It’s much nicer when _you_ call _me_ ‘Sir’.”

“Qrow,” Clover said, “you were hospitalised this morning. You could have _died_.”

“And I didn’t. Big whoop. Good job me. Hip hip hooray. Do you wanna suck my dick for me?” Clover’s eyes widened in shock and Qrow laughed. Clover then grinned too, and shook his head lightly.

“You’re too much.”

“Does that mean no?”

“It means ‘behave and I will.”

“You didn’t say behave _well_.” Clover paused, and then shrugged.

“Guess I didn’t. Lie on your back.” Qrow rolled over with a satisfied smirk. Clover moved to kneel perpendicular to Qrow’s hips.

From here, Clover could lean over to kiss Qrow, and he did, both of them letting their mouths open and tasting toothpaste and saliva, warm and wet and a feeling Clover never wanted to have taken away from him. Also from this position, Clover could move a hand to palm at Qrow’s soft cock through his trunks, and Qrow sighed happily into Clover’s mouth. After thirty seconds or so, they finally broke their kiss, both laughing slightly as they took deep breaths. Clover lay his forehead down onto the pillow next to Qrow, and Qrow decided to lift his own hand and return Clover’s actions, although the angle was a little difficult for his wrists and he couldn’t rub at Clover as smoothly or consistently as Clover was rubbing at him. Still, they kept this up for a few minutes, occasionally letting out soft noises of pleasure as they both began to harden under the other’s touch.

Clover pulled back fully onto his knees and Qrow clicked his tongue in protest. Clover grinned.

“You’ll enjoy the next part even more.”

“I know, but I don’t like the waiting. It’s like getting up and taking a shower: I know I’ll be warm and happy when I’m actually in the water, but no way do I actually want to get out of bed.”

“Well, stop talking and I’ll get on with it.” Qrow rolled his eyes, but fell obediently silent. He lifted himself for a second and propped the pillow behind him up slightly, only a shallow angle, and he shuffled up the bed a little so his shoulders and head were more vertical. Clover raised his eyebrows as he began pulling Qrow’s underwear off, lifting the waistband over his mostly-erect cock and sliding them off, dropping them to the floor.

“I wanna be able to see you,” Qrow explained as Clover took off his own trunks, and then re-positioned himself between Qrow’s legs, nudging them further apart to give himself more space.

“Obviously,” replied Clover, a little drily.

“If you don’t want me looking, you shouldn’t be so fucking gorgeous.” Clover smiled and his cheeks pinkened a fraction, and he dipped his head forwards to hide it.

Clover positioned his hands either side of the top of Qrow’s hips, and dropped his right elbow to the mattress, letting that arm take most of his weight. He looked up at Qrow, moved his left hand to rest at the base of Qrow’s cock, squeezing gently, then slid his hand over the whole length loosely. Qrow breathed out loudly, and Clover smiled, before kissing the tip of Qrow’s cock gently and then moving so he could lick down the length of Qrow’s shaft. He moved his left hand down to cup around Qrow’s balls, and worked his tongue around Qrow, keeping the licking just to the shaft for now, and Qrow gave a soft noise of pleasure, somewhere between a moan and a hiccup. Clover occasionally paused and sucked gently in one place for a while, leaving tiny lovebites on Qrow’s now completely hard cock.

Clover’s hand began to play with Qrow’s balls, rolling them in his fingers in turn while his tongue focused on Qrow’s cock. Suddenly, Clover became aware of a hand in his hair, twisting into the longer strands near the front, and he looked up at Qrow, who smirked. Qrow wasn’t particularly pulling, not enough to cause pain, but the tension and the look in his eyes made enough of a threatening promise that sent a sting of arousal though Clover. He raised his head a little and Qrow was careful to follow the movement with his hand, keeping Clover’s hair taut in his grasp. Clover pressed his lips to the head of Qrow’s cock and let his tongue settle into Qrow’s slit, the faint taste of a small amount of precum an encouraging one.

Qrow sighed at the press of Clover’s tongue, and then groaned when Clover parted his lips far enough to let him drag his tongue in circles over the tip of Qrow’s cock. Clover made a gentle noise in response to Qrow’s own noise, and continued the slide of his tongue, massaging Qrow’s balls and letting his own arousal flood his system, his mind grabbing onto the welcome prickling on his scalp and the ever-so-slight humiliation of his own cock being ignored while focusing entirely on Qrow’s. With a quiet moan low in his throat, Clover opened his mouth wider and took the entire head of Qrow’s cock into his mouth.

Qrow cursed loudly, and Clover looked up as far as he could, just about managing eye contact. Qrow grinned like a lion that had cornered a gazelle and was simply playing with it. Clover took a sharp breath through his nose as he sucked on Qrow’s tip.

“Good fucking soldier boy, aren’t you? All well-behaved for me,” Qrow said, and Clover’s eyes fluttered shut, taking a little more of Qrow’s cock into his mouth. Qrow’s hips twitched minutely upwards, and Clover accepted the extra bit of length, letting some spit pooling under his tongue escape his mouth and slide down Qrow’s cock. Clover’s own cock was close to aching, just from being petted and now sucking Qrow off. He was hardly a career sub, but there was something undeniably hot about Qrow talking down to him, teasing him over his military obedience.

Thank the Brothers they did indeed have time enough to do all the things they wanted. Qrow hadn’t died today. Clover wouldn’t drink to it, but he’d happily give a blowjob to it.

Clover looked up at Qrow for a second as he slid a little lower still on Qrow’s cock, almost at the limit of what he could take, and moved his left hand from Qrow’s balls down to his own cock, stroking gently. For a few seconds, Qrow didn’t seem to notice, but then sharp pain ran across the top of Clover’s head and he winced, although it came out as more of a moan with the way his mouth was full of Qrow’s cock. Clover resisted the urge to let his Aura take the pain and instead let it wash over him, mixing with his arousal and making his mind hazy. Clover kept sucking, rubbing his tongue in the small space it had against the underside of Qrow’s cock.

“Guess I never said you couldn’t touch yourself,” Qrow said, then paused briefly to let out a short groan before continuing, “so I’ll just make sure to keep you focused on me as well, yeah?” Clover moaned, an attempt at agreement, and Qrow tugged sharply at his hair again.

Clover took a careful breath through his nose and then took the last part of Qrow’s cock into his mouth that he could without gagging repeatedly, though it still sat heavy over the back of his tongue. Between his own hand on his dick, the cock filling his mouth and the hand in his hair, Clover had a suspicion he’d forget to breath exclusively through his nose at some point, but he was sure it would be _far_ from upsetting to Qrow if Clover were to accidentally choke himself a little. Clover kept sucking, and the room was intermittently quiet, only occasional lewd slurping noises if Clover found he suddenly had too much saliva in his mouth, or Qrow’s occasional vocalisations of his pleasure. Clover kept his hand rubbing at his own cock, dragging his thumb over his tip to collect precum and smear it down himself.

Qrow moved his head to the side so he could see Clover touching himself. It was a damn pretty sight, Qrow thought, and coupled with the hot, wet mouth sucking his cock, Qrow was very happy indeed. He tugged at Clover’s hair, not for any particular reason, just because he could, and laughed a little breathily at Clover’s short moan.

“There you go, Cloves, isn’t it nice for a Vale Huntsman to let an Atlesian bastard suck him off like this? Enjoying it?” Clover suddenly made a noise like an aborted cough and then gagged, and concern flickered in Qrow’s eyes for a second before Clover breathed in sharply through his nose and didn’t gag again. Qrow relaxed and smiled before Clover resumed sucking on him.

“So fucking beautiful,” Qrow breathed, and Clover looked up at him, eyes sparkling and face flushed.

Clover pulled back a little, and slightly shifted the position of the arm he was supporting himself with before starting to bob his head up and down, dragging his lips over Qrow’s shaft and rubbing his tongue where he could reach. Qrow moaned and moved his fingers in Clover’s hair, not a painful tug but more a shift in pressure. Clover could taste Qrow’s precum much more intensely now, salt and anticipation (one a much more metaphorical taste than the other), and he was aware that he was leaking more and more precum himself onto his fingers. The tip of Clover’s tongue dragged over Qrow’s frenulum when Clover pulled almost all the way up, and Qrow swore loudly at the feeling. Clover kept his mouth in that position for a minute or so, repeatedly rubbing his tongue over that same spot and listening to Qrow’s sudden litany of cursing and half-moans.

Qrow had been working quite hard not to jerk his hips upward, not wanting to choke Clover badly, but now Clover had pulled back this much to lick over his frenulum, Qrow figured he had some freedom, so he thrusted an inch or two up into Clover’s mouth. Clover took the movement well, letting Qrow’s cock slide through his lips, just relaxing and letting it happen. Qrow’s hand slipped out of Clover’s hair and instead braced against the bed, giving him a little more leverage to move his hips up and down, rutting into Clover’s mouth, and Clover moaned with the sudden loss of control, working his hand faster on his own cock. He’d cum soon, he could feel it, and there was little he could do for Qrow other than suck when he could and keep his tongue in a place to rub against Qrow’s cock as and when Qrow pushed into his mouth.

Several beads of sweat formed at Qrow’s hairline and one ran over his temple and then trickled through his stubble as he fucked into Clover’s mouth, groaning with pleasure and the heady intoxication of power, much damn nicer than drunkenness ever could be. Clover looked up at Qrow, eyes wide as he took what Qrow gave him. Clover’s breathing picked up audibly in pace, and Qrow stared down at him, wondering how close Clover was to his orgasm, given all he could do to inform Qrow was breath louder, rather than use actual words. Qrow didn’t thrust up again the next time his hips touched the bed, and there was only a short pause before Clover resumed moving his head, sucking desperately at Qrow’s cock, and Qrow moved his own head to the side again to watch Clover masturbating. His hand was moving much faster now, and Qrow occasionally saw light catch on the precum that would bead at Clover’s tip before he swept it away.

Clover couldn’t take much more. Figuratively in his arms, literally in his mouth, was the man he’d fallen hard in love with, who could have been taken away from him earlier in the day, but was here safe, and in typically Qrow fashion, had managed to turn a I’m-so-glad-you’re-okay cuddling session into intensely hot oral sex. Clover moaned around Qrow’s cock, and Qrow grinned down at him, small noises of pleasure escaping Qrow’s throat as he got closer to his own orgasm. Clover himself was so, so goddamn close, and he glanced up at Qrow for a second before letting his eyes shut and focus on chasing his orgasm.

Wrapping himself in the feelings of arousal and warmth and the noise of Qrow’s moans and the slick slide of his mouth on Qrow’s cock and the sight of Qrow’s eyes shining with pleasure and happiness and _life_ , Clover jerked his own cock a dozen more times and came, letting his cum splatter onto the bed and some onto one of Qrow’s thighs. Clover moaned loudly and stopped the movement of his head for a moment, Qrow’s cock deep enough in his mouth to force him to breath solely through his nose again. Qrow swore breathily as he watched Clover orgasm, the way the man’s whole body shuddered, pleasure tearing though his powerful muscles and flowing through his bloodstream. After a few seconds, Clover pulled back a fraction on Qrow’s cock and looked up at him, the two meeting eyes.

“You’re gonna be the absolute end of me, Cloves, I swear,” Qrow rasped out, and Clover huffed a soft laugh before resuming the slide of his lips up and down Qrow’s cock. He was concentrating on Qrow, now, even if his mind was a little airy and blissed-out, wanting Qrow to cum too and wanting to feel him doing it. Clover moved his now free left hand back up to Qrow’s balls where it had been earlier and Qrow moaned at the sensation. Clover’s mouth felt so perfect, warm and slick, and then Qrow cursed as Clover’s hand moved around his balls in such a way that Clover could rub the pad of his index finger against Qrow’s perineum.

Clover hummed with the light arousal he felt as he pleasured Qrow, even after his own orgasm, and took Qrow’s cock as deep as he could once more, letting his mouth settle around it and his tongue rub flat against the shaft, whilst his hand played with Qrow’s balls and perineum. Qrow’s breaths were frequently interrupted now with soft curses and Clover’s name in varying stages of completion. Clover saw one of Qrow’s hands move in his peripheral vision, and expected it to come to rest in his hair again, but when it didn’t, Clover looked up, only to discover Qrow had skittered his hand across his own chest and was pinching and twisting one of his own nipples.

Qrow felt so good, so unimaginably horny and getting so close to orgasming he half-wondered if he’d even have the presence of mind to warn Clover before his mouth was suddenly full of cum. The idea was hot, the inherent eroticism of Clover swallowing what Qrow made him swallow, and Qrow moaned deeply, mind flicking between everything happening. His mind was a paradox of experiencing each sensation in singularity but feeling them all together, and he didn’t have enough air in his lungs but he didn’t need it, not with Clover sucking him off like this, he just needed Clover to keep going, and he knew Clover would, beautiful, wonderful Clover, the man who Qrow had fallen hard in love with and would take on the world to keep Qrow safe and happy.

“Cloves, fuck, I’m gonna cum, Cloves, _please,_ ” Qrow choked out between desperate breaths; Clover changed nothing, simply kept sucking hard and bobbing his head and moving his hand; Qrow changed nothing, one hand rubbing over his chest and the other gripping at the bedsheets hard enough to snap threads. Qrow felt every sensation crash together inside him and for a few seconds they blocked out the world around him, just a static-like ringing in his ears and then Qrow came, moaning out Clover’s name and cumming into his mouth, Clover’s eyes widening at the fluid suddenly filling his mouth and he swallowed the best he could with Qrow’s cock taking up most of the space. Qrow’s thighs tensed so hard they shook and however hazy his vision, he kept his eyes locked on Clover as he drank down the cum Qrow had given him.

Clover didn’t pull off of Qrow’s cock immediately, instead gently moving most of the way up and pressing the flat of his tongue against Qrow’s tip, collecting the last traces of cum and then staying still, holding Qrow’s cock in his mouth until Qrow was halfway soft and only then settling back onto his knees, finally taking the weight off his right arm, which ached somewhat badly. Qrow was breathing like he’d been deprived of air since the day he was born, one hand splayed in the centre of his chest and the other lax on the bed, eyes closed and head resting against the wall behind him.

Thirty seconds or so later, Qrow cracked open an eye to find Clover staring at him. He opened his eyes all the way and they held each other’s gaze for a few moments and then Clover clambered from between Qrow’s legs and moved to kneel at his side. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed slowly, deeply, Qrow taking the taste of his own cum into his mouth with no hesitation. Qrow moved one of his arms from where it was wrapped around Clover’s shoulders so he could thread a hand into Clover’s hair, very gently scratching under the sections he’d pulled, and Clover let his head tilt slightly, relaxing into the touch. They pulled away after a minute or so and slid their hands down each other’s arms, interlacing their fingers and holding onto one another.

“I love you so much, Cloves.”

“I love you too, Qrow. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m so sorry I scared you.” Clover shook his head lightly.

“It wasn’t your fault. And don’t tell me it was.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“In turn, though, I’m sorry I came over your side of the bed,” Clover said, and Qrow laughed.

“It’s alright. It was on top of the duvet, at least. We’ll just change the cover tomorrow.” 

“I’m going to go and wash my hands. Want me to bring you something to clean off your thigh?” Clover asked. Qrow thought for a second.

“Nah, it isn’t much. I’ll just shower it off in the morning. Right now, I’m going to put pyjamas on and get straight into bed.” Clover rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Sure. Get my pyjamas out too. Oh, and pass me that empty glass. I think we both need water.”

Clover returned, clean hands bearing a full glass of what was pretty much the elixir of life in Qrow’s eyes after sex like that, and he put his pyjamas on while Qrow gulped down about three-quarters of the water without stopping for breath.

“Good job I drank my fill in the bathroom, then,” Clover said, and Qrow laughed. Qrow put the glass on his side table as Clover slid under the covers on his side of the bed, and Clover checked both their scrolls were on the charging pads before switching off the lamp on his side table with a soft click, throwing the room into darkness. They both squirmed around a little until they were holding each other comfortably. They bumped their noses together before managing to locate one another’s lips to kiss, and they both laughed lightly. It was a world away from eighteen hours ago. A galaxy away. Clover squeezed his arms around Qrow.

“Don’t leave,” Clover implored.

“I’ve never wanted to stay anywhere more in my life,” Qrow replied, and they fell asleep tangled together, warm and safe.


End file.
